


Gone

by FlamboyantProblematic



Category: Disco Elysium (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Implied Feelings, One-Sided Attraction, Other, When your best friend is straight but you gay af for him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:15:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22226239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlamboyantProblematic/pseuds/FlamboyantProblematic
Summary: The deep rooted walls make it harder for your voice to be heard. He has gone to a place you cannot follow.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Gone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LabyrinthInSpace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LabyrinthInSpace/gifts).



> For Labyrinthinspace! Hope you like it (●´∀｀●)

"Alright boys, good work. Take five."

Titus Hardie didn't have to demand anything of his team, he simply spoke, they listened. His team respected him, trusted him, as much as he did them.

He put his hand up, and Glen met him for a high five. When Titus placed his arm around his best friend, he felt the other man tense for a moment but it quickly faded. He tried not to frown at that. It was easy to know why, well, it was easy for him because he knew Glen. He knew him better than anyone else.

They grabbed a few beers and started walking to no where in particular, talking about sports, the world, whatever they felt like talking about. They sat on one of the cargo containers, their legs hanging off of it. The world was insignificant, and there was only them. It was easy like that. 

As easy as it was talking to a closeted gay who you knew undoubtedly had a crush on you. 

Titus never did anything to lead Glen on, yet he still felt a needle of pain in his heart, hitting all the right places to make him feel terrible. It felt like there was a wall between them, no matter how close they were, it kept them apart. 

He didn't want that, especially since he knew Glen beat himself over it, and aggressively so.

Now Titus wouldn't know anything about being a homosexual, he wouldn't know anything about the struggle of coming to terms with it, of having feelings for someone you know cannot love you back, not in the way you want them to. But he knew how it was to feel like complete and utter shit, and so he guessed it was something similar to that. 

Glen would never admit it to himself, but Titus knew. Of course he did, Glen was his best friend. He knew from the way Glen looked at him sometimes, the way he stared when he thought Titus wasn't looking, the drunken babbles they would have late at night when it was just the two of them. 

Glen loathed himself for his feelings and buried them so deep inside himself, hoping they would just dissolve in the acid of his stomach. But they never did. 

If he could rip that part of him out and beat him straight, he would. But he can't control it, and it angered him. It angered him so much. 

He could try to pretend it's not like that, tell himself he's straight, maybe fake it till he makes it true. But it simply won't be. 

It was best to come to terms with it... so Titus began, "Hey, Glen. Listen, man---"

Shit... He didn't think it through. He's not sure what to say, well, he knows what he'd like to say, just not how to say it. He didn't want to set Glen off, and that was a tough thing to do. Anything could set this man off.

He sighed, tugging on his cap to lower it. Might as well just say it now. "You know you're my best bud, right? So I got to be straight with you."

That almost sounded like an inside joke that only Titus got at the moment. Not the best choice of words. 

Glen just chugged down his beer, looking at the other man from the corner of his eyes, anticipating his next words.

"Well," he shrugged then shook his head, joining his friend in taking a sip of his drink. "Fuck, man. This is harder than I thought."

Now he got Glen considered. "What's this about, Titus?"

"You, you know," He gestured vaguely then sighed again. "Bein' queer." In an instant, as soon as that word, that cursed word left the rugby player's lips, Glen's eyes widened and there was a raging fire behind them. Titus had to correct the situation, and fast. "Which is alright, by the way. Nothin' wrong with bein' queer."

"I'm not." Glen spat. He wasn't angry at Titus, he was angry at himself. He thinks maybe he hadn't hidden his truth well enough 

"Glen, nobody gives a fuck if you are. You're still a Hardie and we---"

"I'm **NOT**!" he repeated. His grip on the beer bottle was dangerously tight, his knuckles were white, threatening to crush the bottle. 

"Oh, come on! I know you look at me sometimes, the way a man would never look at another man."

He struck a nerve, because Glen's face became red with embarrassment and anger. It radiated from him, and spoke to the world around them, making it react, making the ground beneath the cargo container feel thin, and the air murky and sluggish, even as it passed by to play with Glen's hair. 

"And I just want you to know it's okay." Titus gave him a friendly smile, hoping it would encourage him. But the wind around them remained thick and heavy, it carried Glen's aggression and choked them both with it. 

"You're wrong. I'm not a fag!"

"Glen---"

"No! You're wrong, you got it?!"

The air felt hotter as it punched Titus right in the guts. Glen was retreating behind his walls.

"You tense whenever I touch you, you pull your hand away if we accidentally brush against one another. I know you don't wanna admit it but that's only gonna hurt you in the long run, bud. And I just want you to know I'm here for you, regardless of who you wanna take to bed with you. You're my best friend, my brother. No matter what, Glen."

"Shut up!"

"Listen---"

The beer bottle shattered in Glen's hand, glass digging itself deep in his palm, drawing out blood that oozed to his wrist and dripped onto the steel top of the container, but it didn't seem like the man felt it. 

He was far gone, too far behind his walls. 

"Fuck, man!" Now Titus was beginning to sound a little agitated. "Why are you doing this to yourself?! I'm trying to be a good friend here!"

" **Shut up**! You don't understand!"

"I know I don't. But I'm trying to, alright? **_I'm fuckin' trying to_**!"

Glen stood up, and threw what remained of the bottle onto the steel. It hit with a crash, and sent bits of glass flying everywhere. His eyes were red with tears but he would die before letting Titus see that, so when the other man stood up to get close to him, he pushed Titus away with all his aggression, almost causing him to fall over. His bleeding palm left a stain of red on his jacket. An undesired memory was born. He'll never be able to wash it out, it'll never be the same.

"Fuck you!" Glen yells. 

Now Titus was visibly angry as well. "Yeah! Push me away like you always fuckin' do! You'll die hating yourself!"

The walls are high, reaching even beyond the clouds. There's no bringing them down now. It was over. 

Titus sighed, calming himself down. "I didn't mean that, Glen."

The ground felt like it was shaking beneath him, it could split open and swallow him along with the container any moment now. These walls took root... perhaps they'll never come down again. 

_Fuck_...

There was silence for a while and then Glen sniffed. "Whatever. Let's just get back to work."

Titus didn't argue, he didn't have time to. Glen was already gone. 

A part of him was always gone. A prisoner to his own fears, doubts, and self loathing. 

Gone to a place where Titus couldn't reach, couldn't follow, a place where his voice couldn't be heard...

**Gone**.

And now

Now he was truly gone. 

Titus tried to act tough for his remaining men. Those words he told Glen hit him differently now.

' _You'll die hating yourself_ '

Titus was glad it was the dead of night. Everyone had already retreated into their homes. It was just him, the cold night, and the grave of his best friend. 

He set a beer bottle next to the grave and lifted his own up. "To you, you crazy homo!" He declared and then took a long drink before pouring what remained of the bottle on Glen's grave. "The Hardie boys will never be the same without you, man." A pause, then, "I'll never be the same without you."

He tried to smile but it was hard. "Hope there are smoking hot men on the other side, waiting to get with you." 

The wind made the tree leaves rustle, perhaps as an answer from the other side. 

"Shit. Things got fucked, it's all my fault," He didn't stop the tears when they came, there was no use trying to. "But regretting won't bring you back. Won't make things right. The Hardie boys will rebuild. We'll come back stronger than ever, you better be watching from up there, alright?" 

He gave himself a moment to recollect before going on, "Those RCM asshats weren't so bad after all, you know? Helped us clean this mess. Almost died doin' it too. They might just be as crazy as you. You followed me to hell and back. Couldn't ask for a better friend."

Finally, he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and chuckled. "Well, I'll see ya tomorrow, bud. Still got shit to deal with. Take care of yourself. I'll see you again some day."

And with that, Titus left, but the wind played on, carrying his words with them into the unknown, far beyond the deep rooted walls. 


End file.
